Beta Reader: Dragonfly the Dedicated.
Jebb: Thank you. Details from both The Hobbit and LOTR will be woven into this chapter.
Gilraen: Legolas' hair is growing in even as I type—I swear upon the star of Ëarendil!
Farflung: Have you ever seen the spoof of the Gap commercial Orlando Bloom was in? It featured the 'Gap' of Rohan and showed the Fellowship fleeing through Moria pursued by Orcs to the same music that was used when Orlando and his girlfriend were being chased by fans in the commercial.
Arwen Undomiel: Yes, I do owe you a story!
Grumpy: Yes, it is amazing how children can get themselves stuck in small spaces and odd corners.
Kelly Kragen: Thanks both for catching the problem with Estel's hair and for being so encouraging.
Silent Banshee: Says Silent Banshee,"What's this? An English professor caught off her guard?" I shall try to be more discreet in the future as I compose each discrete chapter!
Kitsune: Yes, fellowship and The Fellowship are wonderful things.
Silver badger: Yes, these are Dwarves from The Hobbit.
Azure Dragoness: The story of how Legolas became trapped in a badger hole is in Chapter 1 of "Elfling Retribution." Hope you enjoy it!
Joee: Yes, life is altogether unfair when one is a small boy.
Athena Diagon Cat: Imagine creatures crawling and creeping over you while you are trapped in pitch darkness. Shudder!
Dragonfly: In fiction, the odds are quite good!
After Estel had departed with Legolas, Thranduil respectfully thanked the four Dwarves and escorted them to his presence chamber. There he bade the Dwarves be seated and with his own hands poured each a glass of his finest Dorwinion wine.
"The hour is late," he said. "You must remain as my guests."
"Guests?" said Bofur a little skeptically. "Your pardon, my Lord, but could I trouble you to define that term, 'guests', pre-cise-ly?"
Thranduil laughed.
"I assure you, Master Dwarf, that by 'guests' I mean as honored visitors to the Great Hall, housed in quarters in the family wing and fed and fêted most magnificently."
The Dwarves found this prospect appealing—especially the promise of being fed magnificently. It takes a lot of provender to satisfy the appetite of a Dwarf. Dwarves may be short, but they are muscular and expend a lot of energy in tunneling through earth and stone. They rarely turn down an invitation to dine, and like Hobbits think nothing of a second breakfast or a third lunch.
Gilglîr sent word to the kitchen, and before too long a procession of servants arrived carrying various platters and tureens. Legolas returned from having conveyed Estel into the hands of Edwen Nana, and the Imladris Elves were sent for. Soon a companionable group sat down before a table that did indeed 'groan' with the weight of the food. It fact, the trestle table creaked so alarmingly that Gilglîr made a note to himself to have it reinforced before any other like celebrations.
Thranduil's definition of 'guests' had indeed been 'spot on', and the Dwarves began to feel themselves well-recompensed for their trouble. At first there was little conversation, for both Elves and Dwarves ate with the enthusiasm that came from a meal having been long delayed, but at length all were satisfied. The Elves leaned back in their chairs, slowly sipping the last of the Dorwinion. As for the Dwarves, they pulled out their pipes and commenced puffing and blowing smoke rings. The Elves were familiar with this odd behavior because of their friendship with Mithrandir, and they did not comment upon the peculiar practice. Allowances had to be made for the customs of other folk, and, as Thranduil had said, the Dwarves were honored guests. All the more reason for ignoring the smoke that was drifting throughout the chamber. Instead, Tawarmaenas began to eagerly question the Dwarves about the latest news from Erebor. Elrond and Glorfindel, too, joined in the conversation, for they were greatly curious about that place, having heard from Mithrandir a partial account of the Lonely Mountain and its history, including the Battle of the Five Armies. Legolas, however, held himself aloof from the conversation. His only encounter with Dwarves had taken place when he had first journeyed from Mirkwood to Rivendell, and it had not gone well. He therefore harbored a distrust of those folk. He had hoped that he would never again find himself in the company of a Dwarf, and now perforce he had had to dine with four of them.
At length, however, even Legolas had a reason to pay keen attention to the conversation. Tawarmaenas was begging Thranduil to allow the younger Elves to accompany the Dwarves upon their return to Lake-town to resume their interrupted trade negotiations.
"Uncle, Elladan and Elrohir have only seen Esgaroth from afar, and then only from the back of a barrel. Even Legolas has not yet entered the town itself."
"Even though your hair has begun to grow back," Thranduil pointed out, "you are still scarcely presentable."
"We could keep our hoods up, my Lord," Elrohir suggested.
"Aye, see that you do," declared Elrond. "When I go among Men, I do not want to hear them singing 'The Ballad of the Bald Elf'!"
Bifur and Bofur, Dori and Nori, who had politely refrained from commenting upon the baldness of the younger Elves, now could not help but chortle. Elladan, Elrohir, and Tawarmaenas didn't mind, but Legolas had to counterfeit politeness. Inside, he was seething. He was predisposed to think ill of Dwarves, and their laughter at (he thought) his expense gave him an excuse to dislike them all the more.
Still, he was not going to turn down a chance to visit Esgaroth, even if it did mean that he would have to share a boat with a Dwarf. His interest piqued, he listened intently to most of the remainder of the conversation. His attention wandered a little, however, whenever the discussion turned from Esgaroth to the small doings and domestic triumphs of the Dwarves. Elrond had met these four Dwarves and their companions when, in the company of Gandalf and a Periannath, they had rested at Rivendell on their way from the Shire to the Lonely Mountain. He was anxious to know how all the company had fared since that time so many years ago.
"Thorin Oakenshield, as you know, died in the Battle of the Five Armies and was laid to rest under the Lonely Mountain," said Bifur somberly.
"Yes, Mithrandir and the Periannath brought word of that when they came to Rivendell on their return journey. They also relayed the deaths of Lord Thorin's sister sons, Fili and Kili. They fought loyally."
"Aye," said Dori proudly. "They would not go from his side, even after he had been mortally wounded. Long will they be remembered amongst our people."
"And amongst other Free Folk as well," Elrond pointed out.
The Dwarves looked at him gratefully.
"Of the survivors of that great battle," Elrond went on, "you four at least have prospered, for your garments and your girth plainly tell the tale. How fare the others?"
"Dwalin has done very well," said Nori, "and Bombur has mayhap done too well!"
"Too well? How could that be?"
"Our cousin has grown so fat," exclaimed Bofur, laughing, "that it takes six strong young Dwarves to move him!"
Tawarmaenas grinned. He remembered Bombur from the time he had visited Erebor in the company of his uncle.
"And Balin has flourished as well," Bofur continued, "but he is exceedingly restless."
"Ambitious," corrected Bifur.
"Well, yes," conceded Bofur, "ambitious, too, I suppose."
"And," added Dori, "although folks are wrong to say that all Dwarves are greedy, in Balin's case, it is, alas, true!"
"And it is not just greed for wealth," Nori chimed in. "Balin is also overly desirous of fame."
Elrond raised his eyebrows. These were strong words indeed!
"For several years," Bofur went on, "Balin has been badgering King Dain for permission to depart Erebor. He wishes to journey to Moria. He would reoccupy Dwarrowdelf and reopen the mithril mines. It is true that those diggings are very rich, but many Dwarves believe that the time has not yet come to reenter Khazad-dûm. Most Dwarves believe that we should consolidate our forces around the Lonely Mountain. It is likely, however, that Dain will soon grant Balin permission to do as he likes. The King is quite worn down by Balin's constant entreaties!"
"No doubt Balin will leave soon," Bifur agreed, "but I wish he would not take Oin and Ori with him!"
"Aye," agreed Dori. "Those two have no interest in riches and fame, but they will go with Balin out of love and loyalty."
The four Dwarves sighed and looked very low. Elrond decided to turn the discussion.
"You have not mentioned Gloin. How does he fare?"
All four Dwarves burst into laughter."
"Gloin," chortled Nori, "has been domesticated."
Elrond raised one eyebrow.
"Domesticated?"
"Aye," said Nori. "He dotes on his son Gimli."
"Gimli," chuckled Bifur, "is a paragon among Dwarves."
"The epitome of a Dwarf," added Bofur with mock solemnity.
"Nay, the archetype!" declared Nori,"
"No, no, no!" exclaimed Dori. "He is the quintessential Naugrim!"
All the Dwarves were laughing uproariously by now. At length, however, they began to recover.
"It must be conceded," said Bifur, "that Gimli is growing up to be a very fine Dwarf."
"A truly Dwarfly dwarf," agreed Bofur.
"He is well-formed, strong, brave, and hard-working," observed Nori.
"Aye," said Nori, "his only flaw—if flaw it be—is a birthmark on the inside of his right forearm. Looks like elvish script, actually."
"But that is a trifle," added Bifur.
"Meaningless," agreed Bofur.
Legolas looked resentfully at the chortling Dwarves. He had a birthmark on the inside of his right arm, one which very much looked like the elvish word for 'nine'. How dare this Gimil or Glimli, or whatever his name was, have one, too!?
You may be sure that the feast did not end soon enough for Legolas! At last, however, the younger Elves were dismissed and retired to Legolas' room to discuss the morrow's expedition.
"We shall have to ask Bain son of Bard to guide us out to the spot where the old dragon Smaug plunged into the Long Lake," Tawarmaenas said. "It is a magnificent sight! The worm was immense, and his bones are encrusted with jewels that sparkle with the movement of the water."
Elrohir was surprised.
"The Lake-men have not salvaged the jewels? From the tales we have heard in Rivendell, they would have made a mighty treasure."
Tawarmaenas shook his head.
"Oh, no, the Lake-men only venture near the spot upon occasion and would never presume to disturb the dragon's bones. They say that the water above the dragon is inexplicably cold even on the warmest summer day, and they believe this to be a sign that the treasure is accursed. They swear that evil would befall anyone so foolhardy as to swim down to the bottom and lay hand upon any of the jewels or gold pieces."
As Legolas listened to his cousin, the desire to defy the superstitions of Men arose in his heart. "My father," he thought to himself, "loves gold and jewels and all things precious and rare. How pleased he should be if I were to bring back a piece from Smaug's hoard!" He resolved then and there that on the morrow he should brave the waters of the Long-lake and retrieve some pretty bauble or another to present to his father upon his return to the Great Hall.
The next morning, notwithstanding his dislike of Dwarves, it was with great eagerness that Legolas climbed into a boat with one of those folk. Paddling with the current, it was not long before he and the others arrived at Esgaroth. Elves and Dwarves went together to the dwelling of King Bard. There, Tawarmaenas was disappointed to learn that Bain son of Bard was absent upon an errand to the Lonely Mountain.
"Ah, well," said Tawarmaenas after they had left the presence of King Bard, "I have seen the resting place of Smaug. I can guide us to that spot."
The Elves returned to their boats and, with Tawarmaenas in the lead, made their way to the place where Smaug had fallen. Steadying their boats with their paddles, they gazed into the depths of the clear water.
"Tawarmaenas, you spoke the truth," exclaimed Elladan. "'Tis truly a magnificent sight!"
"Aye," agreed Elrohir. "He is even larger than I imagined, and the jewels and gold shimmer like the feathers of a hummingbird!"
Legolas said nothing, but he began to unfasten his tunic.
"Legolas, what are you doing?" asked Tawarmaenas. "A cool breeze blows across the lake this day. You will be chilled."
Legolas still said nothing. He removed his tunic and began to unlace his boots.
"Legolas," exclaimed Tawarmaenas, alarmed now. "You don't mean to enter the water, do you!?"
"I do," said Legolas shortly, "and I am going to prise a jewel from the bones of that worm, a fine gemstone that will be a present for my father. He has done much for me, and I have given him nothing in return."
Elladan and Elrohir looked uneasily one at the other. Should they try to stop Legolas? Elrohir cleared his throat.
"Mellon-nîn, I think that would be most unwise. What of the curse?"
"Surely you don't believe such Mannish nonsense," scoffed Legolas. He had his boots off now and was stripping off his leggings. He looked up and caught the guarded expressions upon the faces of his friends. Seizing his paddle, with a few swift strokes he put himself beyond their immediate reach. Then he dropped the paddle and swiftly dove into the water, almost overturning the boat in his haste.
For a moment, Elladan, Elrohir, and Tawarmaenas stared at the rocking boat, then they drove their own boats near. Elladan and Tawarmaenas anxiously looked down into the water. For his part, Elrohir began to rapidly strip off his boots, tunic, and leggings.
"There he is!" exclaimed Tawarmaenas. "He is making for the dragon's skull. He is a strong swimmer, I see. Mayhap there is in fact nothing to fear."
Relieved, Elladan nodded.
"Yes, it is not so far to the bottom. He will reach the carcass, seize some jewel that strikes his fancy, and come back up straightaway."
So it seemed. Swimming quickly, Legolas neared the dragon. He was nowhere close to being out of breath as he reached the skull, drawn by a sparkling gem that had fallen into the dragon's eye socket. But just as he stretched out his hand to take it, he gave a kick and drew back a little. Strange, the jewel glittered as if it were the eye of the dragon. For a fleeting moment, Legolas thought the dragon about to spring back to life. He hesitated a moment, arms and legs moving rhythmically to hold his position. He was beginning to feel pressure upon his chest and knew that he could not remain under water much longer. Shaking off his trepidation, he swam forward again, reached out, and lay hold of the jewel.
At once he gave a great kick and made for the surface, but he felt as if he were bearing a great weight. He seemed to be moving with agonizing slowness, and his chest began to feel as if it would burst. Suddenly terrified, he tried to open his hand to discard the gemstone, but instead of his having gripped the jewel, it seemed as if it had a grip upon him. He could not force his fingers to unclench. And now he had no air left to speak of. Bubbles burst forth from his mouth and nose, and he flailed his arms frantically, the world about him darkening.
Just at that moment Elladan and Tawarmaenas heard a splash and turned to see Elrohir's boat rocking. Elrohir swam rapidly down toward Legolas, but by the time he reached him, the Mirkwood Elf was already unconscious. Elrohir wrapped one arm around his friend's waist and struggled to reach the surface. But by the Valar, Legolas was heavy! Divining the reason, with his free hand, Elrohir grasped Legolas' wrist and bent it back sharply, breaking Legolas' grip. The jewel dropped toward the bottom of the lake. Eerily, it once again came to rest in the eye socket from which Legolas had lately seized it.
Elrohir, however, gave no thought to the fate of the jewel. As soon as the gemstone fell from Legolas' hand, Elrohir felt as if a great weight had been lifted, and the two shot up toward the air. As soon as they broke the surface of the water, Elladan reached for Legolas' limp arms and pulled him into his boat.
"He's not breathing, Elrohir!" he shouted.
"Wrap your arms around his waist and give a sudden squeeze," called Tawarmaenas, who had seen an elfling who had fallen into the river brought back in this fashion.
Elladan obeyed these instructions, and Legolas immediately vomited forth a great quantity of water. His eyes remained closed, but his chest began to rise and fall.
"Now let us make for Lake-town," shouted Tawarmaenas.
"Nay," Elrohir shouted back. "We should return at once to the Great Hall. Our father is wise in the ways of healing. We must bring Legolas to him as quickly as we may."
Elrohir scrambled into the boat with Elladan and Legolas so that they could paddle in tandem. They would be swifter so. Tawarmaenas came after in his boat. With no passenger, he had no difficulty keeping up. Elrohir and Legolas' boats they abandoned. Let the Lake-men have them; they cared naught.
Even though they were paddling against the current, their fear for Legolas gave them strength, and they made rapid progress. When they reached the rapids and had to portage, Elrohir slung Legolas over his shoulder while Elladan and Tawarmaenas hauled the boats. They practically ran across the portage trail.
When they reached the landing near the Great Hall, Tawarmaenas raced ahead to bring word to Thranduil and Elrond, while Elladan and Elrohir bore Legolas. Once alerted by Tawarmaenas, the older Elves hastened to meet them, bringing with them a bier upon which they placed the unconscious Elf. Moving swiftly but carefully, they soon reached Legolas' room. Placing Legolas upon his bed, they covered him with many blankets. The Elf's eyes were still closed, but he breathed steadily, and his lips, which had been blue when Elladan had dragged him into the boat, were now a healthy pink. Thranduil, however, was frantic to see the eyes of his son.
"You must do something, Elrond," he begged the Lord of Imladris.
"Athelas," said Elrond. "He must breathe the vapors of that sweet plant. Ever it revives those who labor under an ill spell."
At once servants were dispatched to gather as much athelas as they might, and so zealous were they in performing that task that the environs of the Great Hall were bare of that fragrant weed for many a month. But before any servants could return, Edwen Nana hurried the room bearing the dried leaves of that plant. She always had some to hand, for one never knew when one of her charges would get into a scrape. Thranduil thanked her profusely while Elrond cast the dried leaves into a pot of boiling water. Dried or fresh, there is great virtue in that plant, and as its aroma filled the room, Legolas began to stir. He moaned a little and then opened his eyes, looking about in a daze. Suddenly he cried out, "The eye! The eye!" and flung his arms over his face.
"Shhhh, Legolas," Elrond soothed him. "There are no eyes here but ours. And yours, which we would very much like to see."
Slowly Legolas drew his arms awhile from his face and gazed upon his friends and kin.
"I thought that the dragon had come back and that his eye pierced my soul!"
"Legolas," cried Thranduil, "you did not go near Smaug!?"
"Aye, I did," Legolas admitted sheepishly.
"Whatever possessed you!? I hope you were not seized by the love of treasure! For then it would indeed be true that you have been transfixed by the eyes of the dragon!"
"It wasn't exactly like that, Ada," Legolas said slowly. "'Tis true that I desired to lay my hands upon a piece of Smaug's treasure, but only because I wished to bring it to you as a gift."
"Legolas," said Thranduil softly, "know you not that for me there is only one treasure? Everything else is but a trinket."
Shamefaced, Legolas replied equally softly.
"I am sorry, Ada. I should have understood that."
"Enough speech," Elrond broke in. "Legolas must rest. Let us all depart so that he may do so."
The Elves then left the room save for Edwen Nana. She folded her arms across her chest and stared fixedly at Thranduil and Elrond with a look that defied them to try and move her. Between them, those two Elves possessed enough wisdom to know that they had better not make the attempt. And so they retreated, leaving Edwen Nana in full possession of the field.
Several days later, when Legolas had fully recovered, Gilglîr came to his chamber to speak privately with him.
"Legolas, there is something you must know about your father's treasury, for one day you shall inherit it."
Since the incident at the lake, Legolas had not been eager to hear the word 'treasure' or any variation thereof, but he nodded dutifully. His responsibilities could not be avoided. Gilglîr beckoned for him to follow, and the two descended many steps until they reached the room that Legolas remembered from his childhood as having been devoted to his father's great store of gold and gemstones. Legolas was surprised to see that no guards stood on duty before the chamber. Nor was the door locked. How could this be? Legolas saw the reason at once when Gilglîr swung open the door, which groaned upon hinges that had not been oiled in a very long time. The room was empty. Not one glass bead, not one brass coin lay within the chamber. Perplexed, Legolas gazed inquiringly at the Seneschal.
"Legolas, during the battle for Dol Guldur a great many Elves were injured, and several were killed outright. Upon his return to the Great Hall, your father ordered that his treasure be disbursed for the care of the injured Elves and to support the families of those who had been slain. It was at this time that Edwen Nana returned to the Hall, for your father took her back into his employ so that she might sew for the ellith who were otherwise occupied with caring for the injured and the maimed."
Elves are known for their eloquence, but Legolas was now utterly speechless.
"So, you see, Legolas, a jewel, even one from the hoard of the great Smaug, would be of no interest to your father. He long ago learned what is of value in Middle Earth, and what is not."
Legolas nodded. He could still find no words to express his feelings—a mix of awe and shame and love. Gilglîr understood. Smiling kindly, he turned to leave the young Elf to his thought. But as he was walking away, he paused a moment and called over his shoulder.
"Legolas, there is one gift that you could give your father."
Legolas found his voice—well, partially, anyway.
"Yes?" he said faintly.
"Grow your hair out," called Gilglîr, "and do not cut it again! That would please your father!"
Legolas began to recover his equanimity.
"Aye, I could do that," he called back. "And then," he added teasingly, "I shall dye it—I had thought fuchsia would be striking."
"Oh, you are a gem," Gilglîr retorted dryly. "I see why Thranduil treasures you so!"
Laughing and shaking his head, Gilglîr departed, leaving behind a young Elf both happy and thoughtful.
"My Ada," Legolas said to himself contentedly, "my Ada is the one who is the treasure! His coffers are empty but his heart is full!"
His own heart full, Legolas strode singing from the empty treasury. Never again would gold or jewels have any power over his soul. If someone had offered him the most valuable treasure in the world, perchance a ring of massy gold, shimmering and flawless, he would have rejected it forthwith. Like his father, he had learned what was of value in Middle Earth, and what not.